


Star Struck

by thrushrut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, very first fic on this ao3 woo!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:08:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrushrut/pseuds/thrushrut
Summary: AU prompt fic "i tried to rescue you from being mugged but instead i got knocked out and you had to take me to the hospital after having your wallet stolen"





	

It was an off day, Shiro could feel it in his bones from the moment he woke up 45 minutes late for work.

Being a day for bad omens, it just continued to mount after that.

His brother, Keith, in his loving grumpy ways, had decided to use up all the hot water before he’d left to his friends house. If bathing in nearly bruising ice water hadn’t been bad enough, the entire Tupperware container of soup he had been saving for breakfast was also confiscated.

Shiro loved Keith, he really did, but sometimes he wondered if smothering your sibling with a pillow was really that frowned upon. Not enough to hurt him of course! But just a little bit….

Tired grey eyes had simply squeezed shut and in a half-assed attempt at some kind of nutrition he settles for Keith’s beloved ramen stash. It tasted like cardboard and fake chicken stock and of course Shiro spills some when he’s rushing around to find his shoes.

By the time he’s fully ready and semi-alert, it’s officially an hour and 28 minutes that he’s late.

It’s an hour and 30 when he’s down to the parking garage and realizes he’s forgotten his keys.

And a lovely hour and 45 minutes when he’s finally settled in his car, the engine humming, and he receives a text from his boss.

 

_**Allura:** _

_I hope you’re having a nice day off! Remember tomorrow is your turn to bring donuts. :)_

 

Oh.

 

_Right._

 

……….

 

So maybe he yells, just a teeny bit, and thumps his fist hard enough against the wheel to make it honk.

It takes another thirty minutes for him to count his irritation into something more manageable and get out of his car. Rationally he knows he’s been immature, in fact it’s a day off, certainly a cause for celebration!

But with the awful unsettling morning still weighing on Shiro’s shoulders, he feels like just this once he’s allowed to be a little bitter.

The thought is instantly shook off. He wasn’t well known for being a bitter person, the thought of him accidentally snapping at someone made his gut roll in discomfort. Coming to a decision he begins making his way out of the parking garage and around the corner.

A walk would do him well, he figures.

It was probably cliché to think it, but what could possibly go wrong on an innocent walk to blow off steam?

The answer was a lot, a lot could go wrong.

Of course poor Shiro doesn’t realize what kind of forces are out to get him on such a mild Saturday. He can take no heed to warnings, mind a flutter with little whispers here and there of nothing too important.

Hell he even stopped by his favorite cafe, a cozy little thing filled with warm sturdy wood chairs and cheerful paintings on the walls. They never failed to serve him the best pumpkin spice drinks.

He’d never dare to admit that his reasoning behind their success was the cute brunette barista who always served him with a flirty smirk and a wink that sent his heart to ruin.

Nope.

Wasn’t a thing.

Absolutely not.

…, Shiro tries desperately to keep himself from drowning in his to-go cup.

Despite the light flush he knows is on his cheeks he can’t help but send a mental thank you to the barista. He always got his order just right to accent the mood Shiro was in, in this instant, he could feel his bones warm and the rest of his dour mood skitter off.

It was going to be a good Saturday, he thinks to himself firmly.

For some part he’s not wrong.

The weather remains a constant balance of comfortable, decent for an October afternoon. The city streets are sleepy, just enough for Shiro to wander aimlessly for a larger portion of his day. He even makes a friend of a lost little pup. It’s got inky fur, and somehow has bright white eyebrows that make it look sort of serious yet friendly, like a Dad Friend.

It’s just as he’s contemplating if Keith would make a fuss of a pet in the house when a commotion a little ways away has both their attention.

There’s a couple of young folk, (he could practically hear Keith calling him a geezer), not too far away. Their shoulders are drawn up in sharp dangerous arks, one of them says something and a voice painfully familiar to Shiro pipes up in the middle of the mess.

“Hell no I won’t give you my wallet! Are you stupid? I just got paid.”

Oh fucking hell it was Lance, the sweet sassy barista.

Wait….was he insane?! Who even told a robber that!

All the little snippy remarks bubbling in his brain are promptly slammed aside in favor of making his way to the scene.

Anxiety screams at him, but if there was anything that would help in this situation, it was patience, focus, no fear.

Lance backhands one of the punks when they make a move for him and Shiro nearly faints.

“I said are you stupid? Fuck off.”

Before he manages to get himself into more trouble, or god forbid, injured, Shiro finds his mouth moving before he can formulate a plan.

“Excuse me, is there something going on here?”

Three sets of eyes zero in on his frame, two in utter irritation, and one in, well something he didn’t have a lot of time to dissect. Instead he draws to his full height, knowing that while he rarely if never got into fights, looking the part sometimes helped diffuse a situation.

What he doesn’t expect is one of them growing ballsy, a hand lashing out for Lance’s arm and Shiro manages a clean clock to the robbers face when something weird happens.

It’s a sudden shocking pain that erupts from the back of his head, a great ripple of disorientation follows suit. He thinks he hears his name being shouted, and a dog barking, and the last thing Shiro see’s is Lance kicking someone clean in the throat and man can his legs go high **oh my god** that should be sinfully illegal.

And then he’s eating asphalt and sinks into unwelcoming darkness.

++++

It’s quite a while before Shiro wakes up, and when he does trust him it’s not because he wanted to. The effort to even open his eyes feels herculean, forcing out soft grunts as he attempts to take in his surroundings.

It’s only when a gentle hand cups his cheek to stop him that he realizes he’s not alone. Very much not alone, because here is Lance, his cute barista, tenderly touching his face with this look….

Shiro thinks he can pin it down now, fear, and fondness, and potentially exasperation.

He took full offense to the last one but still didn’t trust he could focus well enough to be absolutely sure.

In fact besides the dull throbbing in the base of his skull, he’s got a sneaking suspicion he might be high on pain meds.

In front of his very much so crush.

Fuck.

“Hey,” he says, or assumes is what comes out of his mouth, his tongue feels like a lead weight. Lance’s nose wrinkles in response, a little frown playing on his lips and he moves to respond.

“Don’t hey me you dope, you got a concussion!”

For all he’s worth Shiro is so glad he manages to stop himself before asking ‘what’s that.’ Instead he huffs, feeling incredibly childish about the turn of events. “What happened?”

Something in Lance’s eyes soften, and of course it makes Shiro’s poor heart stutter again.

“You tried to save me from being mugged. Which!” he exclaims, his thumb tapping a gentle reprimand against the battered man’s cheek. “Is incredibly valiant and all that bullshit but a third guy came up behind you and knocked you out and I called an ambulance because you were bleeding so much.”

His words are fast, stressed, idly Shiro is sure his face is a flushed mess at the tone and the story. Something bothers him however.

“What happened to them?” At the arched brow he receives, his mediocre brain supplies, “the bad guys.”

Something like unease curls up over Lance’s pretty features and Shiro isn’t sure why but he feels awful. In the feelings way this time, and not just that damn throbbing in his head.

Then Lance is all smiles, starling the elder with a half-ass victory pose. “I kicked their asses! Sort of, I mean, they kind of got my wallet, but it didn’t have much in there anyway.”

It was then, for a brief moment, that Shiro’s gaze manages to sharpen, taking in a few bandages and band-aids littered across Lance’s arms and cheek.

“Oh,” Shiro’s voice is thick and he swears it’s because of the painkillers. “I’m so sorry,” the room gets blurry and he can feel fingers move to brush at his face. Lance’s tone is so soft and sweet Shiro is sure his insides are melting in all the nicest ways, “don’t cry Shiro, it’s okay.”

So that’s why he couldn’t see and his eyes ached something fierce. He’s got half a mind to be embarrassed but find’s it’s too much trouble and settles for a watery sniffle.  

“Wasn’t much help,” oh good lord did that really come out of his mouth. Before he can take it back those fingers are tugging at the shock of white at the forefront of his black locks. “No! I mean it was super heroic and knightly like I said, I’m sorry you got so hurt.” Shiro finds he can only focus on the sensation of Lance smoothing his hair aside.

Until Keith came barreling in.

At full speed.

_God damnit Keith._

“Shiro!” His brother cries out, freezing five feet in the doorway at what Shiro hope’s isn’t too terribly awkward a scene.

“Lance what the fuck did you do to my brother?”

Wait what.

The last of the tears had been forcibly blinked from Shiro’s eyes, allowing him to see the two glaring at each other. Lance is so close, almost touchable, if his body didn’t feel like it was stuffed with cotton he’d have already made a reach for the brunette.

Instead Shiro can only watch dumbly as Lance snorts, arms crossed defensively. “I didn’t do anything mullet head! Some guys were giving me trouble and Shiro jumped in and they banged us both up,” his voice drops to a pitch that the elder doesn’t like. “They got him worse than me.”

It takes a moment for some of the irritation to bleed from Keith’s ridged form, he grumbles, and lets out a noise of pure irritation. “That does sound like Shiro,” he finally relents, both of them jumping when the man himself huffs loudly in their direction. “Does not,” he replies, and god if he would just shut the hell up he can feel his cheeks practically boiling traitorously.

There are a couple of laughs, he thinks he feels a hand squeeze his before Lance is getting up and moving away and no don’t go-

Lance looks back at him questioningly, making him realize he’d said that last part out loud. “Call me?” he tries, because his addled brain thinks this is a perfectly acceptable time to flirt with the other. And Lance, oh sweet beautiful Lance, takes pity on his poor soul and nods. “Of course I will, and I’ll see you at the cafe right?”

Shiro hums his agreement, lids fluttering closed for what he thinks is just a moment until a hand jostles him.

“Bro don’t fall asleep, that’s like the stupidest thing you can do right now.”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” yet words come easier to him, and the fuzzy ring around Keith’s form has significantly lessened when he opens his eyes.  So maybe he’d been sleeping, sue him.

Of course not a moment later he realizes it’s just the two of them. “Where’s Lance?” he tries to play it cool, really he does, but Keith settles him with this look that makes his ears burn.

He was so busted.

“He said something about getting your dog? I told him you didn’t have one but he seemed really hellbent on some dog that was waiting outside of the hospital and….”

A lengthy pause.

“Shiro did you get a fucking dog.”

“Nooooooo?”

When they’d finally let him go home, Shiro can’t even begin to express his relief at the sight of Keith’s familiar car in the hospital parking lot.

Thankfully the ride home is silent, soothing, Keith is trying hard not to drive like a total fiend and Shiro appreciates the hell out of it.

The day ends in the same place it had started.

A very disoriented man tangled in a heap of blankets and pillows, his eyes looking at but not seeing whatever garbage was running across his tv screen.

He’s just about to call for Keith when something pressed up against his stomach vibrates and he’s forced to wiggle around until his phone falls onto the carpet.

Oh right, that’s what he needed, he feels a little silly and devotedly blames his lack of competence on the medicine.

He picks it up, yanking it back into his make shift fort to spy an unfamiliar number has sent him a picture message.

“Who in the world…,” he mutters under his breath, the question dies on the tip of his tongue when he presses on it and sees a dog. The cute black dog with the stark white grumpy eyebrows from his walk. It’s cuddled up on a bed covered in blue paw print patterned sheets, one eye lazily regarding the phone in disinterest.

Below it there’s a message from someone he hadn’t expected to hear from so soon.

 

_**Unknown:** _

_Hey! It’s Lance! They wouldn’t let me bring your doggo into the hospital, so I took him home with me instead. If you come by the cafe tomorrow around 4, I’ll take you to my place to get him okay? ;p_

 

his dog?

Lance’s house?

Wait no, oh god Lance.

Shiro knows his face is on fire long before he lets out a noise suspiciously like a tiny scream of terror and humiliation.

When Keith comes bursting in moments later to check on him he finds quite the sight.

Takashi Shirogane, normally composed and cheerful dad friend and graceful big brother, suddenly a mad blushing mess as he screams quietly at his phone.

Keith can’t help it, he looks at the screen too and connects the dots faster than Shiro can blink.

He laughs like an asshole.

Shiro now wonders if spontaneous combustion was a thing that could genuinely happen to him.

….

…….

He shyly saves the number under the name:

 

_**Lance <3** _

**Author's Note:**

> WOO so I'm not new to AO3 but i felt it best to keep my works for Shance and a few of my other ships away from my other one. You can also find me as thrushrut on tumblr, please let me know how you felt about my fics and if theres a prompt you'd like to see me do!


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